• Each day, when the glow of sunset
      Fades in the western sky,
    And the wee ones, tired of playing,
      Go tripping lightly by,
    I steal away from my husband,
      Asleep in his easy-chair,
    And watch from the open door-way
      Their faces fresh and fair.

    Alone in the dear old homestead
      That once was full of life,
    Ringing...